


Hungry Like The Wolf

by smittenbritain



Series: RT Writing Community Secret Santa [5]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 15:31:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittenbritain/pseuds/smittenbritain
Summary: “Geoff,” he said, quietly, “what happened?”Geoff was silent for a moment, and then he sucked in a sharp breath. “Gavin was bitten by a werewolf on Chiliad.”Ryan felt all the blood drain from his face. His stomach dropped, down to the very ground floor from Geoff’s top-of-the-line apartment.Gavin had been bitten.Gavin had been bitten.Gavin had beenbitten, and now everything had irreversibly changed for him - for all of them.





	Hungry Like The Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisiswhatmylifehasbecome/gifts).

> This is a Secret Skeleton fic for the wonderful Void! It was an absolute DELIGHT to write for you, and I hope you enjoy! This all absolutely spiralled from you putting Harry Potter AU in your prompts, and I'm weak for combining things with a GTA AU.

High above, way above the smog and the light pollution of Los Santos, way up past the Maze Bank, stars winked into existence, coupled with the soft curve of the moon. As beautiful as the natural light was, though, it could never break through back down on the streets below, where the orange glow of the streetlamps persisted. This simple display of urbanity took away the magic of the night sky, casting it aside in favour of more modern qualities.

Or so the city thought.

Down below, down in the depths of the Maze Bank, a figure appeared. He seemed to step forwards out of nothingness, entirely like he had meant to do so. The only sign he gave of his sudden arrival was the almost bored way he adjusted the skull mask on his head, tilting it back into place again.

“I’m in,” he murmured.

An earpiece buzzed to life in his ear. _ “Awesome. What do you see?” _

“Lockboxes.” The man started to move around the room, reaching out almost absentmindedly to trace his fingers along the metal encasing the walls. “There’s a big vault at the end. Pretty much exactly the same as the plans.”

There was a relieved, staticky sigh. _ “Fuck yes. Let’s get that fucker open then, Ry.” _

Ryan hummed an affirmative and moved towards the vault. The door was as wide as the room, and made of thick, grey, impenetrable metal. It would be impossible to break in without leaving a mark, and no doubt setting off a thousand alarms in the process. Bank security would be down here in seconds to investigate, and Ryan would be a goner.

At least, that was how things would work if he didn’t have a few tricks up his sleeve, almost literally.

He shrugged as he stopped in front of the vault, and the very tip of a stick appeared in his palm, shaken loose by the motion of his jacket. He was careful to keep it mostly concealed, apart from the small inch that he needed to work with; more freedom was always better, but Ryan had grown accustomed to working sneakily.

All it took was a single tap of the wand against the vault door and a low, whispered word. It was followed by a series of low clicks as the tumblers inside the lock turned and shifted, and, eventually, settled. Ryan gave the handle a gentle tug, and the vault swung open as easily as if he’d used the key. Smiling beneath the mask, Ryan stepped inside. 

Piles and piles of money were built into neat piles, bundled up almost like it was a present for Ryan himself. There was easily thousands there - millions, possibly - just waiting.

_ “Everything okay? We can’t see you now.” _

“Relax, Geoff, it’s fine.” Ryan strolled over to one of the piles. He crouched, and he took an empty wallet out of his pocket - there were no personal effects tucked inside, though one corner of it was frayed from use. “I’m getting the haul now.”

_ “Hurry up, yeah?” _ A second voice chimed in. _ “Can’t have them realising anything’s wrong.” _

“I’d work faster if you stopped bothering me,” Ryan snipped.

He flicked open the wallet with a gloved thumb, and then, casually, reached out to grab a bundle of cash. He slotted it inside the wallet, still wrapped in waxy paper around the middle, and instead of bulging out the wallet in a humorous and mundane display, it dropped inside, almost like Ryan had tossed it into a bag. A second bundle followed the first, then a third, and a fourth and a fifth after them, but the wallet still showed no sign of its load. It simply swallowed up bundle after bundle, and remained as thin as any other wallet on the planet.

Ryan worked until the first voice spoke up again, urging him to leave, at which point he straightened up and closed the wallet. He tucked it securely into the breast pocket of his jacket, sealed up the vault again, and, with no more effort than before, stepped into thin air and vanished.

* * *

Ryan reappeared seconds later in the penthouse.

He was greeted by delighted cheers and thoroughly amused laughter. He received countless claps on the shoulder as the crew welcomed him back inside; he was plied with a chilled diet coke for his efforts, and urged over to the dining table right in front of the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Everyone gathered around as Ryan took a seat, sheepishly smiling; the lads jostled each other for a chair, Jack right behind them. Lindsay, Alfredo, and Trevor joined them, forming a crowd full of excited energy.

But Ryan only had eyes for Geoff. He watched as he sat down next to Ryan, a hidden smile on his face; he was pleased, immensely so, but was trying to play it cool.

“So,” Jeremy said, grinning at him, “what’s the take?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan admitted. 

“Get your wallet out, then!” Gavin wriggled in his seat, simply unable to contain his excitement. “Let’s count it!”

Reluctantly, Ryan set down his untouched coke - there’d be time in a moment, and he could always magic it colder again, though it was never quite the same as when it was fresh out of the refrigerator. He pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket, flipped it open, and turned it upside down over the dining table.

Money _ flooded _ out of it. There was no way the wallet could’ve held even one bundle, let alone the countless amount that tumbled down, piling up onto the table, mounding high enough that Jeremy had to sit up to see anyone over the top. The last bundle needed a bit of a shake, but it soon fell loose, and bounced its way down to the table. 

Satisfied, Ryan tucked his wallet away again, and reached for his diet coke-

Only for his hand to be knocked aside as Gavin’s shot past to scoop up whatever he could hold. “Bloody _ hell, _ Ryan. I didn’t know you could do magic like _ that.” _

“What, they don’t teach you things like that in England?”

“Yeah, in seventh year, but I wasn’t very good at it.” Gavin turned the money over in his hands, studying it like it might disappear. “I’m not the best at charms.”

“Well, we all knew that,” Ryan muttered, reaching around him to finally, _ finally, _ get his hands on his coke. He swept it under Gavin’s arm and raised it to take a few triumphant slugs.

Gavin huffed at him, and tossed his handfuls back onto the pile. “Who’s gonna count it, then?”

“Not me,” Geoff said immediately, “I’ve got plans tonight.”

“I stole it,” Ryan added. 

“Hey, we’ve got plans, too!” Michael gestured between himself, Jeremy, Gavin, and Alfredo. The latter three exchanged glances, a mixture of guilty and pleased. “We’ve been talking about going to Chiliad at night for months! We need potion ingredients?”

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “And you need four of you to go?”

“Spooky out there, Geoff,” Gavin said, straightening up and tucking his thumbs in his belt like a lazy security guard. “Michael needs us to look after him. What if something goes bump in the night?”

“I’ll count it,” Jack sighed. He pointed a finger at the lads, adding, “You fuckers owe me.”

“I’ll help,” Trevor offered, sinking into a seat. 

“Same!” Lindsay dropped down next to him, beaming. “We’ll have our own party without you.”

“Didn’t wanna go to your party anyway,” Michael shot back. Lindsay stuck their tongue out at him, and he muffled his snicker by kissing their forehead.

Geoff was the first to push himself away from the table; clearly, their meeting was adjourned. “You three get a bigger cut for counting,” he called over his shoulder, “and no, you guys can’t suddenly decide to join in!” He disappeared around the corner, towards the door to the penthouse and out of sight.

Ryan drained his coke and set the class down. “I’m taking off, too.”

“You’re going quick.” Michael squinted at him. “Got a date?”

“Something like that,” Ryan said.

* * *

A TV played in the background, forgotten and muted. Dinner plates, mostly empty, were sat alongside half full glasses on the coffee table, abandoned now that the pair had eaten their fill. 

Ryan and Geoff were far too occupied to think about the remains of their dinner.

Their kiss naturally broke, and Ryan lounged back against the couch, flushed in the face and more than a little smug. Geoff hovered over him, a lazy grin on his face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ryan murmured. His hands idly wandered as he spoke, drifting up and down Geoff’s sides, smoothing out the crinkles he’d made in his shirt. “Just glad to finally have some time to ourselves.”

“You and me both,” Geoff huffed. He leaned in again, brushing his lips against Ryan’s, and for a moment, they simply shared another sweet kiss - with the promise of more just around the corner. “Love the crew, but holy_ dicks, _ it’s nice to get some peace and quiet.”

“Mhm.” Rather than answer properly, Ryan tugged Geoff closer again, and they sunk further into each other, consumed by the hot presses of their mouths. 

It quickly shifted gears, going from sweet and soft to a little more hot and heavy. Before Ryan knew it, Geoff was pressing him down into the couch cushions, and he was gladly melting underneath him, tightening his grip on his sides just to pull him closer. He could feel Geoff through his jeans when he rocked against him, and Ryan sucked in a harsh breath, surprised by how quickly that shot a bolt of heat down into his stomach.

And then Geoff’s phone rang.

The first time, they ignored it. Geoff didn’t rise from his place at Ryan’s throat, and Ryan didn’t urge him to; Geoff’s phone simply sat on the coffee table, buzzing away, until it stopped.

The second time, Geoff stopped kissing Ryan’s neck. Instead, he sighed; his breath tickled against the damp skin there. “Fucking fine,” he grumbled, pushing himself upright. 

“Tell ‘em to fuck off,” Ryan grumbled, staying flopped on the couch. “We’re busy.”

“I’m trying to.” Geoff frowned as he lifted his phone to his ear. “What is it?”

Ryan couldn’t hear who it was on the other end, so he simply watched and he waited, almost twiddling his thumbs as he tried to be patient. He couldn’t tell much from Geoff’s frown, but he continued to study the lines of his face in an attempt to figure out what was going on.

His idle amusement dropped as quickly as Geoff’s face.

Geoff scrambled off of Ryan’s lap, their making out forgotten. “On my way,” he said, rushing over to grab his shoes. “Fuck. _ Fuck. _ Is he okay?”

Ryan sat up, watching Geoff from his spot on the couch. “Geoff?” 

“Get him home. I’ll be there in ten. No, five.”

_ “Geoff.” _

The phone beeped as Geoff ended the call. “We’ve gotta go,” Geoff said, shoving his foot into his shoe without untying his laces. “Now.”

Ryan wasn’t going to argue that; clearly, something had shaken Geoff. He rose, and he joined Geoff by the door. He offered Geoff his coat, and he gratefully slipped into it. Rather than grab anything else, though, Geoff simply stood there, shoulders hunched, fingers curled too tight around his keys. When Ryan laid his hands on his shoulders, he felt a fine tremble.

“Geoff,” he said, quietly, “what happened?”

Geoff was silent for a moment, and then he sucked in a sharp breath. “Gavin was bitten by a werewolf on Chiliad.”

Ryan felt all the blood drain from his face. His stomach dropped, down to the very ground floor from Geoff’s top-of-the-line apartment. 

Gavin had been bitten.

Gavin had been _ bitten. _

Gavin had been bitten, and now everything had irreversibly changed for him - for all of them.

Ryan was brought back to his senses by the jingle of Geoff’s keys. “No,” he said, reaching out to take Geoff’s hand in his own. “Don’t try and drive. I’ll Apparate us.”

Of course, Ryan was in no fit state to drive either. He was putting a little of faith in his ability to Apparate not just himself, but another person, too; it wasn’t that much more complicated, but worrying enough in his current state. Still, he steadied his mind as he looped Geoff’s arm through his, and, when he was sure that he was holding on tight, Ryan stepped forwards and twisted them into nothingness.

* * *

Ryan expected a scene when they arrived at the penthouse - a scene with a capital ‘S’, with shouting and yelling and panic. 

Instead, there were only hushed murmurs.

The table which had so recently held money had been hastily cleared off; a few stray notes still lingered, strewn across the surface, while the rest had been tossed into a sloppy pile by the wall. It had been shoved away to make room for Gavin, who was now sprawled on the table, where someone had laid him. Some of the crew gathered around him, trying to help, while others were scattered nearby, pale and lost. Jack, in his Animagus form - a fluffy ginger cat with a paler, spectacle-like pattern around the eyes - stood by Gavin’s head, his fur on end.

Even from the door, Ryan could see the blood. The shoulder of his shirt was torn from the bite, and the material was stained red. Bizarrely, in his shock, all Ryan could think about initially was that Gavin would be pretty annoyed to realise his shirt was ruined.

Geoff strode away from Ryan, towards the table. Michael broke away from the group to meet him, and they quickly fell into a whispered discussion.

“What happened?”

“It came out of nowhere, it just- it pounced on him, Geoff. We scared it off, but it was too late, it already had him.” Michael lifted a trembling hand to his forehead, and simply held it there for a moment. “I called you as soon as we got him back here.”

There was a quiet pause. “Is he… you know…?”

“He’s alive.” Michael’s hand dropped back to his side with a thump. “Probably… he’s probably infected, though. It wasn’t a scratch.”

Geoff’s eyes closed. _ “Fuck.” _

“It’s my fault,” Michael continued. Ryan watched as his gaze drifted back to the table. Only Gavin’s feet were visible from here, where everyone was bunched around him. “I asked him to come, I should’ve been more careful.”

“Cut that shit out, right now.” Geoff shot Michael a firm stare. “This was nobody’s fault. You didn’t know, and that’s not gonna help Gavin.”

Michael’s shoulders slumped. “I… yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Ryan could tell that it wasn’t enough to soothe Michael - nothing would really be enough to shrug off that guilt, maybe not until Gavin was awake and smiling again. Defeated, Michael retreated to the couch, where he slumped down with his head in his hands, while Geoff bustled off to find a space near Gavin’s head. For a moment, Ryan thought about going to sit with Michael, but then he thought better of it; he looked like he wanted some time to himself and his thoughts.

So, with only one place to go, Ryan gravitated towards Gavin.

He was deathly pale, and though his eyes were closed, Ryan could see them moving behind the eyelids like he was heaving a bad dream. A fine layer of sweat coated his forehead, leaving him shining under the harsh glare of the lights. Ryan found himself a space by Gavin’s other shoulder; he didn’t dare touch him right now, not when he seemed so fragile, but he felt better for standing vigil with him.

Opposite Ryan, Trevor was busy at work, holding his wand over the wound in an effort to carefully heal it and staunch the bleeding. So far, he’d done a good job - but the worst had already happened anyway.

Nobody spoke until Trevor straightened up, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Alright, I’ve done as much as I can. He should be okay besides the, uh, you know.”

“Werewolf bite,” Jeremy murmured.

“Besides the werewolf bite,” Trevor agreed.

When Ryan spoke, his voice was a croak. “What are we gonna do?”

Trevor glanced up at him. He already looked so, so tired; there were dark circles under his eyes, and his usually styled hair seemed to have lost some of its lustre. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “There’s no cure. All we can do is make it easier for him, and make sure he stays safe. We’ll have to figure out where he can… where he can spend the moon in peace.”

_ “Peace,” _ Michael scoffed, his voice harsh. Heads turned to look his way, but Michael still firmly had his face buried in his palms. “Like he’ll have fucking _ peace _ when he’s turning.”

“You can make him a Wolfsbane Potion. You’re the best here with potions, Michael.”

“You say that like we have any of the ingredients lying around! They’re not _ cheap, _ Trevor.”

“We have a literal mountain of cash over there,” Ryan said, jerking his thumb over at the pile. “We’ve got savings, and a new method of getting money. That’s not an issue. We - _ Gavin _ \- will just need you to brew it.”

Michael went silent. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, there was a raspy cough from the head of the table, and all eyes flicked Gavin’s way again.

“I trust you, Michael,” Gavin murmured. Against hushed protests, he forced himself up onto his elbows so he could stare Michael down from where he rested. “I’m alright, boi, really.”

Michael looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “You’re _ not, _ though.”

“I’m alive, aren’t I? I’m a lucky bastard, really.” A sloppy little grin made its way onto Gavin’s face. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you and ‘Fredo. You saved my life.” 

“This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t asked you.”

“Then it would’ve got one of you, wouldn’t it?” Gavin winced, and Ryan rushed forwards to catch him before he could slip back again. As he propped Gavin up, he sunk gratefully back against Ryan’s arms with a sigh; he already seemed exhausted after such little conversation. “Better me than you two, I can’t fight as well, and I can’t brew potions either.”

Michael ducked his head back into his hands again, running his fingers roughly through his own hair. “Wolfsbane Potion is fucking hard though, Gav. I could fuck that up and make things worse.”

“Jack can help you, Michael,” Lindsay added quietly; Jack, busy nuzzling in under Gavin’s chin - his love for cats was well-documented, so Jack had probably thought it was the best comfort he could give - offered a quiet _ mrrow _ of agreement. “Between you both, you’ll catch any mistakes.”

“Can’t be that bad,” Gavin said, “not when plenty of people do it. And you’re the _ best _ at potions, Michael.” He paused, then continued, “Course, you don’t have to, I can always buy-”

“No!” Michael shot him a stare. “No, I’ll do it. Don’t fucking buy it, Jesus Christ, you’ll spend every cent and get some shit that won’t work. No, I’ve got it. I’ll just need time to get ingredients.”

Gavin exhaled. “Thanks, Michael.” He sagged back a little more; the little energy he’d saved up was fading now. “Think I need another rest. Any chance I can have an actual bed instead of the bloody table?”

“Of course, Gav.” Geoff squeezed his forearm, then looked up to meet Ryan’s eyes. “Could you take him to a bedroom? I’ll bring some a change of clothes, and Trevor, could you grab stuff to clean up his shoulder?”

Ryan didn’t linger. Carefully, he scooped Gavin up into his arms, tucking him in against his chest to keep him secure. Gavin made a quiet noise at the jostling, but otherwise he didn’t complain; he simply tugged his weaker arm closer against his own chest and waited out the ride. Soft chatter resumed behind them, but they were far enough away that Ryan couldn’t pick out the words, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to anyway.

He nudged one of the bedroom doors open with his hip, and there, he gently deposited Gavin on the bed. Gavin almost looked like he could be asleep, but when Ryan turned to peer at the door, Gavin cracked an eye open and reached for him. “Ryan.”

Ryan paused, leaning towards the bed again. “Yeah?”

Gavin’s arm thumped back to the mattress. It sounded a little harder than Gavin probably meant it to be. “D’you think Michael’s alright?”

“I think you’re the bigger concern right now.”

“Yeah, but he’s being an arse about this, isn’t he? He’s blaming himself for it, and it’s not his fault.” Gavin huffed, his eye sliding shut again. “I don’t want him taking this too hard. It was out there, and it was gonna be someone. Just happened to be me.”

It was almost odd how Gavin seemed to be so at peace with this already, Ryan thought, but maybe he was just trying to make the best of a bad situation. 

When Geoff and Trevor bustled in, Ryan decided to take his leave; he didn’t want to crowd him when he’d already had the crew gathered around him tonight. As he and Geoff passed each other, they traded a gentle brush of their fingers - a reassurance for each other when there wasn’t time for more right now. Ryan closed the bedroom door behind him, leaving Geoff and Trevor to tend to Gavin in peace.

* * *

The penthouse was a subdued place in the following days. Gavin didn’t emerge for several days - aside from quick trips to the bathroom, at first with someone to hold him up and then later on his own wobbly legs. In the meantime, the penthouse itself fell into a sorry state - the cash remained in an abandoned pile, takeout boxes piled high on the kitchen counters, and cans and cups littered the living room table as the crew gathered around to hatch a plan.

There were several things they needed to address, after all, and they only had four weeks before the next full moon.

Step One: Gavin needed somewhere safe to transform.

Step Two: Gavin needed Wolfsbane Potion.

The first part was easy. They had an ‘interrogation room’ that had gone unused ever since they’d set it aside; in the early days of the crew, they had joked around about needing one, but had never actually captured anyone to use it. It had become more of a safe than anything else, given its heavy, thick metal door and secure locks, so all they needed to do was empty it out so Gavin wouldn’t injure himself further. Creature comforts could come later; once they had emptied it, it would simply become an empty stone room until they weren’t strapped for time.

But there it was: Step One was complete.

The second part was, in theory, just as simple. Michael had countless books on potions, and he’d already hauled out his heaviest tomes to dig up all he could on the Wolfsbane Potion, aside from just the recipe. He’d started to make his own notes with Jack’s help, where they gathered all the information they could: warnings, side effects, _ anything _ that might impact Gavin in any way. 

The difficult part about the potion brewing was actually finding the ingredients - specifically, the wolfsbane itself. Given that they were in a city and there were very few areas that grew flowers like that, the best bet was to simply buy a healthy supply of it in the hope that it would arrive in time for Gavin’s first full moon. 

“Eventually,” Michael said, ruffling his own hair, “we’ll grow it ourselves. That’ll be easier than buying it every time. I just wanna get my hands on some first, though.”

“I know a guy who used to sell plants and shit,” Jeremy offered from across the table. “I can see if he knows anything.”

Michael tossed his pencil down with a frustrated sigh. “Fuck it, worth a try. I don’t know anywhere else.”

Ryan knew he wasn’t much help with the potion - he said as much when Michael next turned to him for help - so he found himself simply helping Alfredo empty out what Gavin had fondly dubbed ‘The Doghouse’, much to the crew’s amusement. For the most part, it was full of old, broken guns or a random assortment of useless ammo - basically, a lot of shit that they simply hadn’t thrown away. 

“Why do we even _ have _ this?” Alfredo asked. When Ryan turned, his hands full of dull or snapped knives, he saw Alfredo holding up old, sooty clothes.

“Oh, those are old disguises,” Ryan said, shrugging them off. “We only used those once. They got a little, uh… singed in the escape.”

_ “Singed?” _

“Oh, you know. Sometimes there’s fire.”

“I _ don’t _ know, actually, Ryan.”

“Ehh.” Ryan crouched down next to an empty box by the door, and there was a clatter as he dropped the knives into it. “You’re telling me that you’ve never been on a heist that hasn’t ended in explosions?” he continued, lifting the flaps of the cardboard - and then paused. “Huh. We’ve got a hole in the wall over here.”

“Oh, shit.” He heard Alfredo move over to peer down at it. It was small, really, so there was no danger of Gavin escaping through it. A cat or very, _ very _ small dog might be able to squeeze through, but definitely not a werewolf. “We’d better get that filled in before the full moon.”

Ryan’s lips twisted into a little frown. They were all talking about the full moon so casually, almost like it was a year or two in, not just a few days. It still surprised him that Gavin was so relaxed about the whole thing, to the point that he was making jokes about it. Of all people, Ryan had assumed that he’d be more concerned.

Or maybe he was just very pointedly aware of the guilt Michael was carrying.

“I’ll tell Geoff later,” Ryan said. He pushed himself upright again with a huff. “Let’s finish up here first, though.”

* * *

Geoff and Ryan finally found a moment alone a week after the attack. This time, though, they ordered pizza instead of cooking dinner, and they sunk into the couch once they’d eaten their fill. It was admittedly a relief to press pause on everything happening back at the penthouse, though Ryan knew that Geoff felt a little selfish for doing so.

“Hold on, let me grab my phone.” Geoff sat upright to pull it closer on the table.

“Geoff, relax.” Ryan tugged gently on his elbow, guiding Geoff back into the crook of his arm. “Everything’s fine, everyone’s at home. Michael and Lindsay are with Gav, he’s fine.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but just in case they need something.” 

_ “Geoff.” _ He gave him a gentle squeeze around the middle. This time, Geoff sighed and slumped back into Ryan’s arms - he’d given up, for now. “You know Gavin would be pissed if he knew you were agonising over this. He’s fine.” Ryan disagreed with himself, really - he, too, wanted to be available at the drop of a hat - but he wasn’t about to let Geoff know that, not when he was struggling to take one evening for himself.

Geoff huffed. “Yeah, well, last time we did, Gavin got bitten, Ryan, so excuse me if I’m finding it a little hard to relax.”

That was fair. Ryan was, too.

But an idea occurred to him, then.

He slipped out from where he was curled around Geoff, and instead, Ryan slipped down onto the floor, shouldering his way between Geoff’s knees. The sharp inhale of breath above him was a triumph in itself; Ryan grinned as his hands slid their way up Geoff’s thighs. 

“I think I might know a way to help you relax,” he said, rubbing his thumbs in little circles. “If you want. Course, we can just go back to watching a movie or-”

Ryan felt a little like a smug cat when Geoff’s hand came down to cup his cheek. “Hey, you know, I think I liked the first idea.” Geoff’s voice cracked a little mid-sentence, and Ryan nuzzled into his palm to hide his little smirk. This would work to improve both their spirits, and it picked up nicely where they had been forced to wait last week. 

It was familiar and comforting to fall into the same old routine. Ryan lost himself in giving Geoff pleasure and receiving it not long after, and for one evening, all their worries slipped away.

* * *

Gavin finally settled back into the crew a mere two weeks later. While still bandaged, his shoulder already seemed to be back to normal for the most part, aside from the occasional wince when he jostled it. It was a startling recovery for such a savage injury, but it was damning evidence: if there had been any doubt about Gavin becoming a werewolf, this answered that question.

Well, that and Gavin’s sudden appreciation for rare steaks. They discovered that when Gavin had their first dinner with everyone again that night, and he decided he wanted his much bloodier than usual - which was odd, considering Gavin had had his well done only a couple of weeks ago. Jeremy indulged him when he placed their order, though the second Gavin was distracted by picking the evening’s movie, he shot Ryan a worried little frown as he spoke on the phone. 

Aside from those minor details, it was business as usual.

* * *

That was until they hit one week until the full moon, and Michael was in full blown panic mode.

“I can’t get the potion ingredients in time,” he confessed the second he tumbled into the armoury with Ryan - Ryan who had, until seconds ago, been practicing his aim on the targets.

He lowered his gun and lifted his goggles onto his head, just so he could actually draw his eyebrows down into a frown. “What happened?”

“Jeremy’s guy fell through, and any wolfsbane I can find won’t arrive until after.” Michael leaned back against the wall with a groan. “Gavin’s supposed to take his first dose tonight.”

“What, you don’t drink it on the full moon?”

“You take it every day up to and _ including _ the full moon,” Michael corrected. “Don’t ask me why, I don’t fucking know. Either way, Gavin’s fucked, because it takes time to brew properly and _ I don’t have the ingredients.” _

Well, shit. Gavin _ was _ kinda fucked.

“We still have the, uh, Doghouse,” Ryan said. “He’s not gonna get out.”

Michael shot him a glare. “Yeah, but it’s still gonna be painful as shit, and then he’s gonna be out of it until morning. He’ll be a danger to us and to himself.”

“I know, I know.” Figuring his shooting practice was over, Ryan popped the magazine out and set it down on the table next to him. He went through the mechanical motions of checking the chamber as he continued. “The most we can do now is make it comfortable. It’s not your fault you couldn’t make it in time, it sounds like wolfsbane’s hard to come by.”

“In the city it is,” Michael grumbled. “I don’t know if even fucking Chiliad is remote enough to find any.”

“Well, then there you go.” Ryan shrugged. “You did your best. You’ll be able to make some by next full moon, right?”

“I mean, yeah.”

“Then it’ll be okay. The first one was always gonna be bad.” 

Michael sighed, his shoulders sagging as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, I guess.” He paused. “I’m gonna go find Gav, I guess.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell him before you came to me?”

“I was panicking, alright? I didn’t see Gav first, and I knew where you were, so I came here.” Michael pushed himself off from the wall, his feet dragging a little as he headed for the door - though he stopped a second later to call over his shoulder. “Any idea where he is, actually?”

“Uhh…” Ryan stopped gathering up his equipment to squint at Michael as he searched his memory. “I think he went out to do something with Geoff and Jack?” It would have been his first trip out post-bite; Ryan could tell that was news to Michael, though, by the way his eyes widened before he vanished through the door.

Rather than follow him, Ryan took the time to first put away the gun and the goggles, meticulously placing them back in their spots in the armoury. Only then did he peer down the hallway to the Doghouse, where piles of stuff waited for him, all in an effort to make Gavin more comfortable next week - pillows, mostly, in the hope that Wolf Gavin might want to just take a nap instead of howl the night away.

* * *

Getting Gavin down to the Doghouse was the easy part.

He went willingly, of course; Gavin, for as much as they liked to tease him otherwise, was an intelligent man, and he knew that without the Wolfsbane Potion, he was dangerous enough that the whole crew would be at risk if he refused. He was the only one still acting cheerful as they headed downstairs, somehow still joking around despite the strained smiles he got back from everyone else. 

It was a cover, though, and Ryan knew it. Gavin himself proved it the second they were faced with the door to the Doghouse.

He watched as Gavin paled and went quiet. In the doorway on his own, he seemed so small and frail again, almost like he had when Michael and Alfredo had first brought him back. Up until now, he’d always had a member of the crew by his side to lean on, but nobody could safely go through that door with him, not until morning. They would all be in a room further down the hall, taking shifts to watch Gavin through the security cameras, just in case he needed them - for what, none of them knew, but it made everyone feel better to say it. 

“Well,” Gavin said, and then promptly stopped. He rocked on his heels and wiggled his fingers restlessly; as the day had worn on, he’d seemingly grown more and more agitated, like he was gradually filling with nervous energy. “See you lot on the other side, then.”

“We’ll be right out here,” Ryan said, reaching forwards to squeeze his shoulder. “You won’t be alone.”

He could only see the corner of Gavin’s strained smile. “I appreciate it, Ryebread.”

Ryan stepped back to let the rest of the crew filter in to give their murmured encouragement. It felt almost like a funeral with the way everyone gathered around, like Gavin was on his deathbed - which, in a way, Ryan supposed he sort of was; he certainly wouldn’t be the same after tonight. Once midnight hit, Gavin would be changed irrevocably, and they would all have to get used to the new norm. The reality of it was only just hitting them, it seemed.

Geoff was the one to close the door. Gavin had taken a seat on one of the cushions, and as the door closed on the scene, Ryan saw Gavin look up at the clock he’d mounted on the wall just the day before. 

One hour. They were cutting it close.

Michael didn’t join them in the CCTV room. He sat with his back to the wall, opposite the door, holding his own silent, guilty vigil.

* * *

It didn’t start right away, but they could see the signs.

By eleven thirty, Gavin had stood and started pacing around the room; by eleven forty-five, the sweat on his brow was clear even through security footage. He switched between restless movement and hunching over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

The clock hit midnight, and nothing changed - not immediately. Gavin stilled, his head bowed down between his shoulders. His breaths were slow and deep, and his fists remained clenched at his sides.

At three minutes past the hour, the first anguished cry hit their ears. 

There were no microphones in the Doghouse; there hadn’t been time to safely install them. That meant that Gavin’s yell was loud enough that they could all hear it, clear as day, from their cramped little room. Geoff’s hand latched onto Ryan’s wrist, squeezing tight enough to hurt when Gavin shouted again, but Ryan didn’t try to dislodge his hand. It grounded him in the same way it was providing Geoff some shred of comfort right now.

On screen, Gavin fell to his knees, crumpling into a ball. His body was wracked with tremors and twitches, his muscles jerking as they began to shift and change for the first time. He raked his fingers through his own hair, and this time, his scream was muffled - by his own knees, judging by the way Gavin turned his head to press it more firmly against his trousers.

Trousers that soon became torn by fingers that had become claws, left to hang off of Gavin’s now elongated limbs. Fur, not hair, began to spread across bare skin that was no longer so bare, puffing out from his shirt collar and the rips in his jeans. Angrily, the werewolf yanked his shoes off, tossing them carelessly aside once they were off his too big paws. His shirt soon followed, clawed off his own torso to be left hanging in shreds from his frame. 

The next noise was a howl as the werewolf tilted his head back and parted his jaws. It was a long sound, somehow both mournful and frustrated. 

When he lowered his head again, Ryan finally caught sight of his eyes: a familiar green, but with not an ounce of humanity in them. Ryan could only see the feral hunger of the werewolf in his eyes, not the Gavin that they all knew.

And then he began to claw at the walls.

“Stop it,” Geoff hissed to himself, “you’re gonna hurt yourself, you fuckin’ idiot.”

“What do we do?” Jeremy asked. “We can’t- we can’t _ leave _ him in there.”

“Well, we can’t fuckin’ let him out, can we?” Geoff snapped.

“Geoff,” Ryan warned quietly.

“He’s gonna _ hurt _ himself, Geoff!” Jeremy shot back, frowning. “What about when it’s morning and he’s suffering all over again?”

“Alright, enough of this.” Jack stood, shoving his chair back from the desk. It thumped against the wall and bounced off again, where it eventually slowed, still spinning idly. “I’m going to help him.”

“No you’re fucking not,” Geoff growled, reaching out for Jack as he passed.

Except Geoff’s hand closed around air, not Jack’s elbow. A fluffy orange blur darted out of the door and vanished down the hallway, a trail of humans frantically following.

All Ryan saw when he reached the door again was Michael, looking pale and shocked on the ground. “He went through there,” he said, pointing at a hole in the wall - the hole that Ryan had seen a couple of days ago and forgotten to mention…

Ah. Shit.

“Jack?” Ryan called, crouching down next to the hole. “Jack, buddy?”

Distantly, Ryan heard a quiet little _ chirrup. _ Relief flooded his body; Jack was okay for now, at least, though he still had no idea what was going on in there.

“He’s okay, guys!” Alfredo called from the CCTV room. “He’s just… chilling there with Gavin?”

It sounded like more of a question than an answer, enough that it drew Ryan up from his spot on the floor. Even Michael stood to follow him back, joining Ryan at Alfredo’s shoulders as they peered at the screen. Sure enough, there, nose to nose, were the werewolf and the cat Animagus, as casual and calm as could be. Jack’s tail waved back and forth lazily as Gavin, satisfied with his greeting, actually turned to settle down on a cushion, folding his great, long limbs up as he tucked himself into a little ball. Jack tucked himself in next to him, and then turned his smug little cat face to the security camera in the corner of the room.

“What the fuck…?” Michael breathed. “He doesn’t attack Animagi?”

“I guess not,” Ryan said. He reached up to scratch his beard thoughtfully. “And if that’s the case… I might have a plan.”

* * *

Ryan didn’t elaborate until morning. He wanted to wait for Gavin’s input first, so it was only when he staggered up to the penthouse in tattered clothing, propped up by Jack’s arm, that Ryan took Geoff aside to explain.

“I think if we become Animagi, like Jack, we can make it easier for him,” Ryan said in a rush. “Especially if he’s on Wolfsbane Potion, he’ll be completely himself. We’ll just be able to communicate better maybe, or keep him from doing anything stupid, at least.”

Geoff immediately cupped his face and dragged him in for a fierce kiss. “You beautiful bastard,” he breathed against Ryan’s lips. “You’re a fucking genius, Ryan.”

“Jack’s the real genius. He’s the one who ran in there last night.” Ryan cast a glance over at the rest of the crew; this time, they were settled on the couch, plying Gavin with snacks and warm drinks to regain his strength. “And becoming Animagi won’t be easy. It’s hard enough for one person, let alone the whole crew.”

“We’ll ask Jack to help, it’ll be fine.” Geoff pinched Ryan’s cheeks again, the first real smile on his face in a long, long time. “I love you, Ryan.”

Ryan turned his head to kiss Geoff’s palm. “I love you, too.”

* * *

Progress was, unsurprisingly, slow. Becoming an Animagus was a difficult thing to master with real, legal instructors, and even harder when their only sources were books and Jack. On top of that, they were hoping that at least one of them would be a bigger animal, enough that they could theoretically tackle Gavin if, as a werewolf, things went wrong.

It was safe to say that it was more than a little nerve-wracking, and incredibly complicated.

“Look at all this shit,” Michael said, gesturing at the pile of newspaper clippings in front of them. “Look at how fucking dangerous this is. Look at that guy, he’s only halfway there-”

“Michael, _ stop,” _ Gavin hissed, gagging when Michael kept shoving the photo towards him. “Michael, for Christ’s sake, _ Michael!” _There was a thud as Gavin toppled out of his seat and onto the floor, and then frantic shrieks as Michael kept chasing him over the side. Ryan was just relieved to hear Michael laughing again, really, so he decided not to get involved.

The process of becoming an Animagus was, as Jack had explained, a complicated one. It involved a potion, some incantations, and above all, focus when you _ thought _ you had completed everything correctly - even then, there was no guarantee, and one wrong move could severely fuck over a wizard, especially if they were trying to do this off of the Animagus register, like the Fake AH Crew were. However, they’d decided that they might as well do this together rather than nominate one other person to suffer through it alone, but they also weren’t idiots: they had decided to inform themselves of the risks while they also figured out how to actually do it.

“This is gonna suck,” Geoff sighed, leafing through a book. “We’re gonna need to find all these ingredients first.”

“Enough for seven people,” Ryan murmured. 

Geoff groaned. “Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Ryan agreed, turning a page. 

Gavin screeched again in the distance, and Michael’s cackles echoed down the hallways. It didn’t sound like they were going to get this figured out anytime soon, but on the bright side, Ryan knew that the beginnings of a batch of Wolfsbane Potion were bubbling away down the hall, so Gavin wouldn’t be clawing at the walls again next full moon, even if they couldn’t join him just yet.

* * *

In the end, it took months to get there - Alfredo was first, but the others would follow in the days to come. During one of their practices, several moons in, long after Michael and Jack had started up a steady supply of Wolfsbane Potion, there was a sudden flurry of feathers, flapping wings, and a startled _ hoo! _When Ryan opened his eyes, in Alfredo’s place there was a confused looking owl, flat on its ass, wings spread like it didn’t know how to hold them.

“Hey, nice one!” Jack said, heading over to crouch down next to Alfredo. “Owl, that’s a pretty good one, too. Now you’ve done it, you should be able to go back and forth way easier.”

Sure enough, the owl vanished seconds later, replaced once more by Alfredo kneeling on the floorboards. “Holy shit, that was awesome!” He took Jack’s offered hand and got back to his feet, beaming as Gavin applauded and cheered from his spot on his favourite armchair. “You guys have gotta do it, it’s _ fuckin’ _ cool.”

“Wish I could,” Gavin said, high-fiving Alfredo when he went to sit down. “Don’t think I want the extra hassle when I’ve already got the bloody werewolf thing, though.”

“I wanna be a cat!” Lindsay bounced on their toes excitedly. “My Patronus is, it’s good be my Animagus form too, right?”

“Not necessarily,” Jack said, leaning against the wall. As everyone resumed their attempts - closing their eyes, sitting down, focusing once more - he continued. “Your Patronus can change too, under the right circumstances, apparently. They can be the same, but not always, so we’ll find out.”

“I’ll take a big dog,” Michael murmured to himself, forcing the words out through gritted teeth and a furrowed brow. “Fuckin’ love big dogs.”

Michael and Lindsay, as it turned out, were the next, and they got their wishes - sort of. When Ryan heard a delighted bark, he opened his eyes again to find a golden retriever wiggling excitedly around the room, and a little brown cat sitting miserably in the middle of the dog’s dancing. Jack, Alfredo, and Gavin were all doing their best to contain their giggles, but apparently it wasn’t enough; the cat turned and hissed at them, the fur on the back of its neck rising, though it settled down when the dog buried its nose in its side fondly.

“What happened?” Ryan asked.

“Well, Lindsay’s the dog,” Jack said between giggles, “so you can guess who the cat is.”

On the floor, Michael grumbled again, and then turned to stalk away, his tail high in the air. Lindsay bounded after him, still bouncing off of furniture with their eager tail-wagging.

Almost like they had been inspired, the rest of the crew came easily within the next few days. Trevor, much to everyone’s amusement - including his own - became a tortoise, and he quickly set up to bask in the gorgeous sun they got through the penthouse windows. They had to quickly grab anything breakable when Jeremy suddenly burst into a grizzly bear and loosed a delighted roar; he looked far too pleased with himself when he sat on his haunches in the corner of the room, occupying a good chunk of their sizeable living room. Geoff’s transformation was much quieter, and Ryan was the first to spot the wolf on the couch, his greying muzzle resting on his paws as he took a well-deserved nap - one that was quickly interrupted by Gavin, who was delighted to have another wolf to keep him company.

Ryan was last, but motivated. He didn’t know what animal he was looking for - he’d never managed to cast the Patronus Charm well enough to get a good look - so all he could do was feel it out.

And then, all of a sudden, he was on four legs, not two - and his feet were hooves, not paws, he could feel a thick, fluffy coat spanning his body, and his head felt _ heavier _ for some reason-

“You’re a stag,” Geoff breathed.

Ryan carefully lifted his head to seek him out, and he simply blinked at Geoff, surprised. A stag. Ryan hadn’t been expecting that, though, to tell the truth, he wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been expecting anyway.

And it hadn’t come a moment too soon. The full moon was due that night, and as Ryan turned again to look out the window, he saw the sun setting across the city of Los Santos, casting a low orange glow across its skyline. In the distance, the intimidating shadow of Mount Chiliad rose up against the scene, and an idea occurred to Ryan at the same time as Gavin spoke.

“What if we went to the mountain?”

* * *

And so, once again, the stars winked into existence above Mount Chiliad, and the full moon hung fat and heavy in the sky - once ominous and terrifying, but now with the promise of a fun night for all. Out here, in the trees and the woods spanning the mountainside, the rumours became real, and now, rather than scary, the Fake AH Crew found themselves embracing those myths and enjoying the peace they provided.

Here, down below the beautiful, unobstructed sky, a group of creatures danced and pranced, rolling around in the grass with a lanky werewolf. They barked and squawked sounds that were almost like laughs as they played, unconcerned by whatever else might be out there. 

And there, at the side of it all, an old grey wolf and a stag rested side by side, enjoying a moment of peace at last.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that this work still contains a certain someone, but given that this work was a gift, I've decided to lock it to only logged in users for now.


End file.
